


It's over

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Cousin Incest, F/M, Kissing, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Mistletoe, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: Narcissa hosts a winter gala for the rest of her pureblood community and runs into an uninvited and unexpected guest under the mistletoe...
Relationships: Sirius Black/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Kudos: 12





	It's over

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hogwartsonline's mistletoe prompt! Thank you so much to @nazyalensky on tumblr for beta'ing this <3

It’s stupid. 

They’ve broken this off years ago. 

Narcissa has just turned twenty-one years old and he is scarcely six months younger. This hasn’t happened since they were both nineteen. It shouldn’t happen again. 

But there’s a mischievous sparkle in his storm grey eyes and she has never quite been able to resist the temptation that comes with Sirius Black and all that he is. In all her cautiously calculated movements and words and the image of herself she has so carefully constructed over the years, is he not her only weakness?

They can’t have this and she has decided five years ago that she’ll never try to have it back because Sirius Black is everything she is not supposed to want and everything she shouldn’t need. An enchanted branch of mistletoe above their heads won’t change that.

It’s stupid, but if it won’t change anything about their circumstances and about their possibilities, what is stopping her from taking that leap and kissing him? 

Mistletoe doesn’t alter the outcomes of a war and mistletoe doesn’t do anything to stop the whirlwind of death and destruction raging around them and mistletoe won’t change anything about the painful but undeniable fact that this can never be. 

So perhaps it’s stupid when she doesn’t take a step back as she should when he lays his arm around her waist and perhaps it’s even more stupid when she doesn’t wait for him to kiss her and instead is the one to lean in first. 

It hardly matters. It won’t change anything. Not unless they’re caught and somehow even that terrible thought isn’t enough to make her realise just how stupid she is being. 

Sirius Black did always have that kind of effect on her, she supposes. 

oOo

It’s reckless.

He isn’t even supposed to be here. He’d get killed in an instant if the wrong person caught him here, not to mention what would happen if they caught him here with  _ her _ . 

This is her husband’s manor, a great house filled and surrounded with the utmost luxury and magical rose gardens and peacocks of the purest white and dark magic crackling in corners if one entered the wrong room. 

It’s become her home and she’s long decided she wouldn’t change it for the world but it doesn’t matter what she thinks of this place because regardless of anything else  _ he  _ shouldn’t be here. 

They’re fighting in a war and even though the ministry isn’t on to them Narcissa has no doubt that Sirius is more than aware of her and Lucius’ alliances in it. The dark mark that’s so pitch black against his otherwise impeccable skin is as much her husband as his gorgeous silver hair is, and it’s never going to be possible to reconcile with Sirius Black while the Dark Lord is out there and the stakes are so high.

It’s reckless to find him in a manor that’s her home and it’s reckless to know there’s a gala going on not far from the hallway they’re standing in and it’s reckless not to send him away.

He does that to her. He’s the only one that ever has.

Sirius makes her reckless enough not to alarm the others and not to make him leave her manor. Makes her reckless enough to kiss him in a hallway in her husband’s house where she’s invited so many guests who wouldn’t be as reckless as to let him live.

So Narcissa is reckless when she places her hands on Sirius’ shoulders and she’s more reckless than she normally allows herself to be when she plants a kiss on his lips. 

This is what she loves as much as she hates about Sirius Black. The rush that comes with doing something she isn’t supposed to do and the adrenaline of being so reckless because she rarely is these days. 

She doesn’t take risks in the war and she doesn’t take risks in her daily life because why in Salazar’s name would she take risks when she has everything she should want right at her fingertips? 

She only takes risks and she is only reckless when it comes to Sirius and that makes him her downfall and the best thing she could have happened to her. 

He makes her reckless and she’s rewarded for it by the feeling of his lips that are somehow always slightly bruised against her carefully glossed ones and for the briefest moment she thinks that maybe she wouldn’t trade the life she has for the world, but she might just trade it to be able to kiss him longer. 

oOo

It’s exciting.

Being stupid and reckless comes with a thrill she doesn’t often experience. 

It’s a thrill that she so often tells herself she can live without and most days she can; she forgets about its existence as if it’s nothing to her and she’s just fine without it. But it’s moments like this one that are so rare and therefore so special that remind her more than anything else that there’s something money doesn’t buy you in this rush of excitement that courses through her when Sirius’ hands bury themselves in her hair. 

It’s exciting because in the midst of a kiss that’s too genuine and too improper for a true mistletoe one, there is this thrill of adrenaline and a sense of danger that burns through her like nothing else and it only makes Narcissa want him more. 

His hands in her hair and the guests closer than she should’ve let them be but somehow simultaneously miles away and her husband somewhere in this manor and Sirius Black kissing her like he never wants to do anything else again. 

It’s exciting to know he’s snuck into a gala meant for anyone but him and his friends, exciting to realise he did it just to see her. That devotion, that recklessness and that stupidity, just for her. It fills her with excitement and it makes her kiss him that much longer, that much more passionately, that much more eager. 

There’s a calloused hand on her cheek and another one tangled in black and white locks and there’s the weight of his body holding her against the wall of the hallway they’re still standing in; the mistletoe forgotten. 

Narcissa will realise later that she hadn’t put up the mistletoe, hadn’t told the elves to do so, and she’ll realise later that there’d been no coincidence about their meeting whatsoever and it will only bring the excitement she’s feeling right here and now back in full when Sirius will be long gone. 

It hardly matters where the mistletoe came from when it’s lead her to this.

Once more. To him.

oOo

It’s naive. 

This can never be and it should never happen and she’s been stupid already and he’s made her reckless already and it’s gotten her excited already and now she wants more and there truly is no other way to describe that want. Naive. 

Her excitement makes her want to drag him upstairs where there are no guests and they have the privacy of whatever guest room they’d stumble into, the recklessness he’s awakened in her dares her to do it and it takes all she has to fight back. It can’t ever be.

It shouldn’t and it can’t and it won’t. Because he’s Sirius Black and he’s made his choices years ago just as she has made her own. Because they’re in a manor that’s her husband’s and hers and because they’re in a war of which they both know they’re on opposing sides. It shouldn’t, can’t, won’t. 

Her own desire that’s so naive that it’s unfamiliar to her because she’s normally so logical and it’s humiliating because it’s just plain laughable, is it not? This won’t be. No matter how she may want it to now, it won’t ever be. 

It’s naive when his lips leave hers and lower to kiss her neck instead and all she wants him to do is go on. Narcissa’s head tilts back and her so carefully chosen dress crumples up in his hand at her waist. 

Naive, when he nips at her exposed collarbone. Naive, when she’s all too aware of the risk she’s taking with each second this goes on and does it anyway, when her hands wander down his back. 

oOo

It’s over.

She’s brought back to reality suddenly and seemingly without cause and she doesn’t know whether to be resentful or glad for the realisation of how foolish she is being. 

Sirius, Salazar bless the man, senses the shift in her at once and again she has no idea whether to hate or love him for stopping. She likes that he pushes her, likes that he tests her limits, but she appreciates even more that he never pushes her too far. 

It’s over when Narcissa shakes her head despite it paining her to do so and it’s over when he recognises the finality of it.  _ Over  _ when she tells him to stop with tears in her throat and over when her voice is quivering as she tells him to leave and over when her words are followed by another kiss that  _ he  _ breaks off this time. 

He’s never pushed her too far. 

It’s over with storm grey eyes looking at her pained and desperate, over with a final peck on her lips, the silent question ‘Are you alright?’ in his eyes that she pretends not to see, and the not as silent words “Happy Christmas, love”. 

It’s over and she’s left with memories of past times she’s found herself in a similar predicament and she’s left wondering if it really would’ve been so devastating to let herself give in just one more time. 

It can’t ever be and it’s so crystal-clear that it can never ever be that surely she wouldn’t be that naive. It’s over when Narcissa is left standing against the wall, hearing her mother chastising her for her unladylike posture in the back of her head, and it’s over when she thinks for just a moment if, if she’s so certain this can never be, it really would not be that bad to let herself have just one night. One time. One taste.

It’s over and she would’ve sunk to the floor in her perfect manor while her perfect gala goes on in a room that feels further and further away but she’s Narcissa Malfoy and that means she remains standing, wipes the tears she hadn’t been aware had escaped from her eyes, and undoes the way Sirius had just ruined her dress. 

It’s over. It can’t ever be and this was just another way to prove it to herself. It shouldn’t be, it can’t be, it won’t ever be. It’s over. 

It’s over when she rejoins the gala after what feels like hours, parades around on her husband’s and her brother-in-law’s arms, smiling like the perfect hostess she is. 

It’s over when she pretends to herself that the name Sirius Black slips from her mind when she rests eyes on Lucius. 

Over when she’s convinced herself of it after a little more wine. Over when there’s no more mention of mistletoe for the rest of the evening.

Over when her husband tells her “Happy Christmas” and it doesn’t feel the same and she can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. 

She’s been stupid and she’s been reckless and she’s been excited and she’s been naive. 

Sirius Black has always done that to her.

Perhaps he always will.

But tonight it’s over.

It can’t ever be.

It’s over.


End file.
